


Just Be With Me

by fandomfab16



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dean is low-key bi, First Kiss, M/M, Seamus is a big old homosexual, Through the Years, Yule Ball, other minor characters too - Freeform, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 00:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16713346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfab16/pseuds/fandomfab16
Summary: Tracking Dean and Seamus's changing relationship from before the Yule Ball in their forth year, through Dean's relationship with Ginny, and up to the battle of Hogwarts.





	Just Be With Me

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write about these two through the years, and I'm excited with how it turned out! My headcanon is that Harry is just super unobservant and Dean and Seamus were actually just dating the whole time so ya know....

Fourth Year

Seamus lay stretched out on the grass next to his best friend, Dean. It was a beautiful afternoon in late November, and as it was probably one of the last ones before it got too cold to be outside, Seamus had insisted that they spend the time before dinner studying outside. Of course, studying for the two best friends meant Dean engrossed in his books and parchment, muttering ever few minutes about potion ingredients and wand movements, while Seamus watched the few clouds in the sky drift by and listened to the sounds of the nearby forest with his book lying untouched next to him, making the occasional distracting comment. 

On this particular afternoon, the two friends had settled under a large tree near the forbidden forest a bit away from the main grounds of the castle. It was a bit of a walk, but they enjoyed the privacy. They found it relaxing to be in each others’ company without other people around, and if they were too close to the castle any number of people could intrude on the comfortable bubble that they felt surrounded them on afternoons like this. 

Dean was halfway through a foot of parchment on unforgivable curses assigned by Professor Moody when Seamus suddenly propped himself up on his elbows and turned to his friend.

“Dean?” 

“Hmm?” Dean replied, still mostly focused on his work.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” Seamus asked. Dean started, his quill scratching a black streak on the page in surprise.

“Sort of,” Dean said after a moment, “This girl kissed me in primary school, but we were both like 6. Why do you ask?”

“Dunno,” Seamus shrugged, “I was just thinking about it. I’ve never kissed anyone, what was it like?”

Dean chuckled, “I have no idea, I don’t even remember her name. I reckon if you’re too young to remember the name of the person you kissed, it doesn’t really count as a first kiss.”

Seamus laughed his contagious laugh in response, making Dean smile at him affectionately. When Seamus laughed, his nose crinkled up and he threw his head back, like the act of laughing was the most joyous thing in the world, and Dean had always found this oddly charming. 

As Seamus’ chuckled to himself, Dean went back to his essay, though more preoccupied than before. He didn’t know why, but the thought of Seamus kissing someone made him uneasy. Dean brushed the thought away, it was perfectly normal to feel weird thinking about your friends snogging people, he told himself as he attempted to focus on the essay.

After a few minutes of silence, Seamus rolled on his side and propped himself up on one elbow, facing Dean.

“When do you think is a normal time to have a first kiss?” Seamus inquired.

Dean paused, thinking. “Dunno,” he said finally, “I supposed sometime around now probably? 14 seems like a good age, and we’ll both be 15 pretty soon.”

“I guess we should go find some ladies to snog!” Seamus said, sitting up and rubbing his hands together. Dean forced himself to laugh as Seamus grinned at him, but an uncomfortable knot had settled in the pit of his stomach as a result of the conversation. 

“Nah, I’m kidding,” Seamus said, “I dunno who I’d even want to kiss if I had the option.” Seamus sighed and pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around them, looking like a very young boy, “I feel like I’d have to know the person, and trust them, you know?”

Dean nodded, agreeing. “Who knows, maybe something will happen at the Yule Ball, since you’re taking Lavender, you know.” Dean found he didn’t much like that idea, and the knot in his stomach twisted tighter at the thought. 

“I dunno,” Seamus shook his head thoughtfully, “Lavenders nice, and I guess she’s pretty, but I’m not sure. I just asked her because she’s my friend and she was upset about not having a date. Speaking of which, do you have a date yet?”

Dean groaned, “No, I was gonna ask Ginny, but Neville beat me to it.”

“Ginny?” Seamus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “As in Ron’s sister? Really?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, feeling self conscious now, “You know, she’s nice and funny, and she’s really pretty.”

Seamus frowned, “I guess.” Dean noticed his usually cheerful expression change to one of confused annoyance.

“What, do you not like her or something?” Dean asked, a little defensively.

“No, she’s fine I guess, she just doesn’t seem like your type.” Seamus shook his head, his expression returning to its normal easy and relaxed smile, “But whatever, does that mean you’re going stag?”

“I guess so,” Dean replied, “But that’s not so bad, I can dance with all the Bouexbaton girls who have been ditched by their dates.” 

Seamus let out a chuckle, “Don’t worry mate, I’ll save a dance for you.” Dean shot Seamus a look, and then the two boys burst into laughter. He felt the uncomfortable knot in his stomach loosen as their conversation switched to the lack of quidditch that year. 

As they chatted, Dean tried not to think about how he felt about Seamus taking Lavender to the Yule Ball, and the fact that he felt better knowing he wasn’t really interested and was just taking her as a friend. In fact, he’d found himself lately spending a lot of time trying not to think about Seamus, which was made difficult by the fact that they shared a room and were together almost constantly. With some effort, Dean pushed the weird thoughts out of his mind, determined to enjoy the nice weather and the company of his best friend. 

~~~~

It was almost 11 on the night of the Yule Ball and Dean sat alone at a table on the edge of the dance floor, watching Seamus dance with Lavender, Neville, and Ginny. He’d danced with them some earlier, but he’d felt awkward and out of place without a date, especially with the way Lavender kept giggling and putting her hand on Seamus’s arm. 

As Dean watched, Lavender leaned over and whispered something in Seamus’s ear, who nodded and turned to walk off the dance floor with her towards the opposite side of the hall from where Dean sat. Before he disappeared into the crowd, Seamus turned and met Dean’s gaze and waved. Dean, embarrassed that he’d been caught staring, blushed and sheepishly raised a hand in acknowledgement, and then watched Seamus turn back to Lavender and disappear into the crowd.

Dean sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He felt hot, confused, and upset, and decided suddenly he wanted to be anywhere but here. He stood abruptly and strode purposefully out of the ballroom into the cool hallways of the school. He mounted the stairs two at a time, feeling an odd sense of panic rising in his chest. He pushed open the door of the first classroom he found and let it close partially behind him. He figured he must be right above the Great Hall, since the music from the Ball was still fairly audible from in here.

Dean sat on a nearby desk, they had all been pushed to the edge of the classroom, trying to gather his thoughts. He was upset, really upset, by something, but he didn’t know what. Something about the way Lavender was acting around Seamus, or maybe the way Seamus was acting around her was bothering him, but none of that made sense! Nothing about the way he was feeling made any sense, and it frustrated him more than anything else.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door followed by a familiar voice.

“Dean?” Seamus said, pushing the door open, “Are you okay? I came back from getting drinks with Lavender and you were gone. Neville said you kind of stormed out and up the stairs.” He came to lean against the desk next to Dean, “I was worried,” he said quietly.

“I’m fine,” Dean said, and when Seamus shot him a look of suspicion he couldn’t help but laugh at how well his best friend new him, “Really, I promise.”

Seamus regarded him briefly before smiling brightly, “Good! Because you owe me a dance.”

Dean blanched, “Seriously? Now?” The song had switched from an upbeat dance number to a slow ballad, and the thought of dancing with Seamus to this song terrified Dean almost as much as it excited him.

“Yup,” Seamus said and stood straight, offering Dean his hand. Dean hesitated, but took the hand, allowing himself to be led to the middle of the classroom where there was plenty of room. They looked at each other tentatively for a moment before Dean swallowed his fear and placed his free hand on Seamus’s waist. 

Seamus followed suit and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, smirking, “Who says you get to lead?”

“I’m taller.” Dean replied as they swayed together. The song continued, and Dean was glad for several reasons that they were not in the crowded hall anymore. First of all, he was pretty sure this was a love song, but it was difficult to make out the words in the classroom, which made this much less awkward than it could have been. Secondly, the Great Hall was lit fairly well and even with his dark skin someone would be sure to notice the blush on Dean’s cheeks in there, while the dim lighting in here meant the Dean was pretty sure Seamus didn’t know that Dean was blushing as much as he was. Thirdly, and probably most importantly, Dean didn’t think that Seamus, who was often laughing and even more often loosing his temper, and “accidentally” blowing up his charms homework at least once a week, would be looking at Dean with the same soft expression that he was now if they were surrounded by their classmates. 

The two boys swayed to the music, chests pressed together and sweaty hands clasped until the song came to an end. They stopped and stood still, looking shyly at each other. Dean felt his skin buzz, like there was electricity between them.

Suddenly, he couldn’t stand it anymore, “Did you kiss Lavender?” He blurted out.

“What?” Seamus said, surprised, the soft expression slipping from his face and replaced by one of confusion and almost shock as he stepped back, dropping Dean’s hand, “No, of course not. I told you, it’s not like that.”

“Oh,” Said Dean, feeling silly, “It’s just, you were dancing, and she kept touching you, and I thought…” Dean trailed off at the amused and almost exasperated expression on Seamus’s face.

“I told you, I want my first kiss to be with someone who I really know,” Seamus said, “Someone who I trust who I know trusts me, who I connect with….Why are you looking at me like that?”

Dean, struck with a sudden notion and trying to decide what to do with it, stammered, trying to get something out, “I was just, well….I was thinking….I just,” Dean sighed in frustration, at himself for not being brave like a Gryffindor, at Lavender for making him think something had happened when there had been nothing, at Seamus for….well, for making Dean so confused he could hardly speak. Seamus opened his mouth to say something but Dean made a decision, muttered “Screw this,” and caught Seamus’s face in his hands and kissed him.

Everything was still for a moment, Dean’s lips pressed against Seamus’s, his hands cradling his face, his heart pounding harder than it ever had before. And then, just as Dean was about to pull back and apologize for ever being born and possibly melt into the floor in mortification, Seamus tentatively kissed him back. His hands rested gently on Dean’s chest and he stepped forward, his head tilting up and into the kiss, and Dean had to resist the urge to sigh in relief. It was a slightly awkward kiss, neither of the boys really knowing what they were doing, but it was soft and warm and Seamus’s hands were gripping the sides of Dean’s shirt, and Dean felt like his heart was soaring. After what felt like years and yet also not nearly long enough, the boys separated, their foreheads resting together gently. 

“Wicked.” Seamus said softly, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh at his friend.

Seamus grinned at him, “Care to explain all that?” He inquired, his tawny eyes twinkling.

“Yeah, I uh…” Dean swallowed and tried again, “I was just thinking that you were right and a first kiss should be with someone you know and trust and connect with and then I thought that I trust you and I feel like, ya know, we get on alright, so maybe it’d be nice to make sure our first kiss was with someone we really know, and maybe it should be with, um, each other.” Dean trailed off slightly, trying to read Seamus’s expression.

After a moment, Seamus grinned widely, “Brilliant,” He said, “Could’ve run that by me first, you know, to avoid the whole initial shock aspect, but besides that brilliant.” And then the two boys were laughing harder than they had in ages.

~~~~

“Is it Padma?” Seamus asked, and Dean, smiling, rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

Seamus sat with his back to Dean’s bed as Dean sat with his legs crossed on the bed, sketching in his sketch book. Ever since Dean had let it slip one night that he had a mystery crush, Seamus had pestered him constantly, trying to get the girls name, though he was pretty sure he already knew that it was Ginny Weasley. 

Truthfully, the thought of Dean and Ginny together made Seamus want to scream, but he’d never tell Dean that, because that would mean telling Dean the reason: that Seamus was hopelessly in love with him. 

To be fair, it was hardly Seamus’s fault that he’d fallen for his best friend, or that’s what he liked to tell himself. How could he resist, when Dean was tall and dark and muscular from years of Football and Quidditch? Who could blame him when Dean was sensitive and an artist and put up endlessly with Seamus’s quick temper and (mostly) accidental pyrotechnics? And what was he to do when last year Dean had shocked him by dancing with him the night of the Yule Ball and then kissing him so that Seamus could have the first kiss he’d always wanted with someone important to him? It made perfect sense that after all that Seamus would fall head over heels for Dean, and none of it was his fault at all.

Seamus used to have hope the Dean liked him back, especially after he’d kissed him, but he’d never given any hint that he did. Sure, they spent all their time together, but they were best friends and Seamus refused to read into actions that meant nothing. But it was clear now that Dean liked Ginny, and Seamus had seen Ginny eying Dean across the common room as well. And Ginny was fiery and funny and an amazing witch. Her hair was shiny red (Seamus’s was a dull sandy brown) and her eyes were big and dark (Seamus’s were squinty and grayish brown) and she was beautiful (Seamus was too short and stocky to be considered anything like attractive). Seamus had absolutely nothing on her, she was perfect for Dean, and everything about it made Seamus feel sick. 

Suddenly, unable to hold it in anymore, he blurted out, “I know it’s Ginny.”

“What?” Dean looked up from his sketchbook in alarm.

Seamus sighed, “You like Ginny, and I think she likes you too. And why wouldn’t she, you’re incredible.” Seamus cringed and quickly added, “And of course you like her, she’s incredible too, and talented and beautiful.”

“You think…” Dean shook his head, “You think I like Ginny and she likes me back?”

“Of course she does, she’s always looking at you.” Seamus grimaced. 

“Oh. I hadn’t noticed,” Dean’s expression was unreadable, “What should I do?”

“Be a man and ask her out. Lord knows half the school wants to.” Seamus muttered.

“You think I should…ask out Ginny.” Dean said. He was being annoyingly unreadable, which was unusual for Dean, who usually wore his heart on his sleeve. If Seamus didn’t know better, he’d think that Dean looked disappointed.

“Yeah, man, go for it.” Seamus said, trying to sound encouraging.

Dean grunted, “Fine, maybe I will.” He slammed his sketchbook closed and stood up.

Seamus scrambled to his feet, his stomach dropping in fear, “Are you mad at me? Should I not have brought it up?”

“No, I’m glad you did, it’ll save us all some time,” Dean said coldly, “I’ll ask out Ginny, who apparently likes me, happy?”

No. I hate this and I love you and you should be with me, Seamus thought, but instead he said, “It’ll make you happy, of course I’m happy.”

Dean looked at him hard and long, like he was a puzzle, and Seamus felt his composure breaking under the intensity of that gaze. Just when he was about to tell Dean that he was joking and he actually thought Ginny hated him, and really all girls seemed to hate him and maybe he should consider other options, Dean looked away.

“Okay,” he said softly, turning away, “Maybe I will ask her out.”

Seamus swallowed the lump in his throat. It was for the best. 

“Wicked.” He responded, and if Dean remembered that Seamus had said the same thing after their first kiss, he didn’t react at all as he left the room.

~~~~

Dumbledore was dead. The truth of it still hadn’t sunk in yet, and Seamus found himself thinking of it at random points during the day and being shocked all over again. It didn’t feel real, but it was a horrible, terrifying truth.

Seamus sat on his bed, his trunk packed up at his feet. He was lost in thought, of Dumbledore’s funeral, of what it meant for the rest of them, of the fear that something would happen to his classmates, and of Dean, always of Dean.

Seamus looked up as Dean entered the room. He’d clearly already packed and was ready to leave later that afternoon. He sat next to Seamus, and the two boys sat in a heavy silence.

“I just don’t believe it.” Seamus muttered. Dean nodded, but stayed quiet. Seamus had always liked that Dean was quiet, because that made the fact that he could ramble to Seamus about art styles and quidditch plays for hours feel even more special.

Eventually, Dean spoke,”You know what this means for me, right?” 

Seamus looked at him, afraid to speak, but not wanting Dean to speak either and confirm what Seamus was afraid of.

“Things are going to change this summer,” Dean continued, “Probably a lot and definitely for the worst. I’ve heard other muggleborns talking about whether they should come back next year, and I’ve been thinking-“

“Don’t,” Seamus snapped, standing from his bed to pace restlessly, “you can’t just give up like that! It isn’t fair, I need…I mean you belong here. They can’t take it from you if you don’t let them!”

“Seamus….it might not be safe. I don’t know when, but as soon as they get strong enough they are coming for muggleborns, and killing Dumbledore was a big step towards that. Don’t you see? I need to be careful.”

“No!” Seamus shouted, pacing faster, “We need to fight, not run away! We’re Gryffindors, right? You can’t just leave!” Seamus grabbed one of the heavy candlesticks from the dresser and flung it against the wall where it made a satisfying bang. 

“I know,” Dean said, “I know how you feel, I know you’re angry and scared, I am too-“

“You can’t possibly know how I feel, Dean!” Seamus yelled. The frustration of the whole year, of watching Dean and Ginny together and then break up, felt like it was bursting from him. He was angry, at the Death Eaters for being horrible, at Dumbledore for dying, at himself for being afraid, at Dean for being so fucking calm and logical about the worst possible situation. He wanted to punch things until his hands hurt, he wanted to blow things up and throw things and scream.

“Seamus, it’s okay.”

“It’s fucking not! I can’t believe you can come in here so calmly and tell me you aren’t coming back next year and act like its all fine! I don’t even know who I am here without you, Dean!” Seamus was close to tears now, could feel them in the back of his throat and behind his eyes, but he pushed them down, “You can’t possibly know what this feels like because you have no idea how I feel about anything!”

Dean flinched at the words, obviously hurt. Take it back, you idiot, take it back, but Seamus gritted his teeth and said nothing to apologize. 

“What are you talking about,” Dean asked tentatively after a pause.

“I’m talking about how I’m in love with you and I have been for years, since you kissed me at the Yule Ball and then never even mentioned it again!” The words were rushing out of Seamus and he didn’t even care enough to stop them. If Dean wasn’t coming back it didn’t much matter what Seamus said now, and the expression of utter shock on Dean’s face was almost worth it.

“And then you fell for Ginny,” he continued, “And I told you to be with her even though it was killing me and seeing you together made me want to be sick, but you were happy so it was okay. And then you broke up, and it was so much harder because what reason did I have then not to tell you except for the knowledge that you could never ever feel the same way about me. So don’t tell me you know how I feel when you have no fucking idea!” Seamus was breathing hard, unshed tears prickling his eyes, and Dean was looking at him with shame and surprise and maybe a touch of heartbreak, but suddenly it was all too much.

“So yeah,” Seamus muttered, “I hope it’s safe for you to come back next year, but I suppose it doesn’t matter for me since I just ruined everything. Stay safe this summer.” Seamus turned to the door and was halfway in the hall when Dean grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside, slamming the door behind him. 

Seamus turned back to Dean to snap something at him, anything to get out of there, but he was stopped by how close Dean was standing and the intensity of his expression. He shrunk back, pressing himself against the closed door.

“Dean?” He said quietly.

“You didn’t want me to date Ginny?” Seamus shook his head. “But you told me to.”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” Seamus whispered. Dean stepped closer to him and Seamus’s breath caught in his throat.

“How was I supposed to know that?” Dean asked, “It just seemed like you didn’t care.”

Seamus searched desperately for a reply, “Of course I cared, I always cared too much about you. That was the problem.” In response, Dean closed the distance between them and kissed Seamus fiercely. 

In the two years since the last time they’d kissed, both boys had kissed other people, had grown more mature and confident (and in Dean’s case had grown quite a bit in height, too), and had spent two years wanting nothing more than to be back in each others arms. If their first kiss had felt like electricity, this one felt like a lightning storm that started a forest fire that burned until the sun died. 

Seamus responded immediately, gasping against Dean’s mouth and grabbing him by the back of the neck to steady him. Dean clutched at Seamus’s hips, pulling him desperately towards himself and wrapping his arms around the smaller boys back to close the space between them. They kissed feverishly, Seamus pinned firmly between the door to their room and Dean’s long, muscular body. Everything about Dean made Seamus feel faint, the scratch of his stubble against Seamus’s chin, the feel of his hands on Seamus’s back pulling him close, the corse texture of his hair under Seamus’s fingertips, the overwhelmingly familiar scent of him that Seamus breathed in desperately.

Suddenly, Dean pulled back, his eyes blazing with a heat that matched how Seamus felt.

“Do you see, Seamus?” Dean said quietly, “I don’t want to go, of course I’d rather fight, for me and for you. But it’s safer this way. If things get bad this summer, it’s safer if I go. You’ll be alright, I know it.”

“I know, I understand,” Seamus agreed, resting his forehead against Dean’s, “I still wish you didn’t have to go.” 

Dean’s face twisted into an expression of anguish and he made a pained noise as he leaned in and kissed Seamus again. Seamus suspected he had intended the kiss to be brief, but as soon as he felt Dean’s lips, Seamus responded with so much enthusiasm that they lost track of time, in fact time lost all meaning, as they kissed and held each other as if it was their last moment together, for they both knew it very well might be. 

~~~~

Dean’s heart pounded as he walked down the passageway from The Hogs Head to Hogwarts with Bill, Fluer, and Luna. He felt jittery and he longed for the security of his wand, which he had lost weeks before to snatchers. He tried to calm his nerves, reminding himself that he would be back at Hogwarts soon, would be with friends again soon, would see Seamus soon. The thought of Seamus made his heart flip in excitement. He had thought of Seamus constantly since he’d started running at the end of the summer, had worried about him at Hogwarts and longed for some news about him. When he and Luna had ended up at Shell Cottage after the escape from Malfoy Manor, Luna had assured him that Seamus had been alright when she’d last seen him, and he’d become quite the leader at Hogwarts. 

Dean could see the rapidly approaching door at the end of the passage, and his heart beat faster as they got closer.

What if Seamus wasn’t there?

The door swung open and Dean saw a group of people gathered in an unfamiliar room hung with red, blue and yellow and full of hammocks. He saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione, facing the rest of the crowd, turn to see who had climbed through the doorway, and then he heard a familiar shout and he saw Seamus, his face covered in cuts and bruises and looking rather worse for wear, barreling at him with the same grin Dean had fallen in love with. 

Dean caught Seamus in his arms and held on tight as Seamus threw his arms around Deans neck and hugged him with all his might, and for the first time in months Dean felt the weight lift off his chest.

Plans were made, orders were given, and people started leaving the room of requirement to prepare. Dean was sure to stick close to Seamus in the crowd, and as they left the room he pulled Seamus into a less crowded corridor and into an alcove behind a statue of a hypogryph. 

“Dean, what-“ Seamus started, but Dean didn’t let him finish before he kissed him.

Seamus startled but rapidly returned the kiss, reaching up to cradle Dean’s face in his hands pull him closer. Dean groaned, and pulled Seamus against him, trying to put months of missing him and misery and hope into that kiss. 

When they finally separated, Seamus let out a shaky breath, “What was that for?”

Dean’s lips twitched with the ghost of a smile, “Just in case we die tonight, I wanted you to know I missed you.”

Seamus smiled, “Yeah, I missed you too. You have no idea how miserable it was here without you. Well actually, it was probably a combination of missing you and crazy teachers and the actual worst headmaster ever.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” Dean said

“After we get threw this. We should probably get going now so we don’t lose everyone,” Seamus said as he stepped out from behind the statue, but Dean grabbed his arm and turned him back to face the taller boy.

“Seamus, if we don’t make it, I just want you to know,” Dean looked at Seamus and saw every moment of his life so far that had lead him to this moment right here, standing in this corridor after not seeing each other for months with a war waiting for them downstairs, and thought that the only thing that mattered was that they were together again, “I love you. I don’t know when I started loving you, but I feel like it’s been my whole life.”

Seamus, usually full of bright humor, looked entirely serious as he responded, “I love you too. Always have.”

The two boys kissed again, knowing that the coming hours would be some of the hardest of their lives, but they both believed somehow that they’d make it through because they had something to fight for: each other.


End file.
